Kissing Oblivion
by Spirit Summoner
Summary: Two people, absolutely perfect for each other and both too stupid to work it out until a heartbreaking experience makes them realise the truth. But by then, maybe it’s already too late. Very Light Shonen Ai Juudai x Manjyome, Onesided Asuka x Manjyome


_Two people, absolutely perfect for each other and yet both too stupid to work it out until a world-shatteringly heart-breaking experience makes them realise the truth._ _But by then, maybe it's already too late. _Very Light Shonen Ai Juudai x Manjyome, One-sided Asuka x Manjyome

Warnings: I could tell you about the OOCness, the swearing and whatever else, but that would spoil the surprise, wouldn't it? Oops! Well, I might as well add that it is long and weird and everything, huh?

Authoress' Note: This was originally meant to be a short Prequel to another fic, but has taken on a life of its own. It is highly likely that this will be revised eventually.

Additional Authoress' Note: There are reasons for why certain things are left unexplained. When I find the time or motivation, I will complete the sequel. Probably.

**Kissing Oblivion**

By Spirit Summoner

For Jun-chan

_I wait for the day that you find me again,_

_Merely kissing oblivion until then._

It was the death that finally made me realise that I was in love with him.

Sounds stupid I know.

It's always something like this, isn't it? _It's absurd_. It happens in books, in movies and now even in 'real life.' But I guess the main thing is to realise not that it _does_ actually happen, but that when it does, it sucks something rotten.

_Two people, absolutely perfect for each other and yet both too stupid to work it out until a world-shatteringly heart-breaking experience makes them realise the truth._ _But by then, maybe it's already too late._

Yeah, I'd go with that – well, at least, that's what it's like on my side. I haven't a clue how _he_ feels about it.

How could I?

He always kept his thoughts and his emotions so much to himself, hiding behind those formidable walls of scorn and dissatisfaction that would take so freaking long to weaken, although they never really collapsed completely despite everything…

But then, even just _talking_ to him without provoking an argument was difficult most of the time!

How in the world was I meant to know?

Ask him?

Yeah, I can imagine the conversation now;

"_Erm…so, how are you?"_

"_What?"_

"_Like, how are you, you know, feeling?"_

"_Why the Hell do you wanna know?"_

"_Just, well, because I was, umm, you know, wondering."_

"_Well instead if wondering, why don't you try wandering on out of my life, you slime!"_

So yeah…but no.

_But_ despite all of his (numerous, might I add) emotional flaws and my own mental shortcomings I knew that I was in love with him.

And I know what you're thinking; if it _was_ love then why hadn't I known sooner? Why did it take something so terrible, something as irreversible as death for me to recognise my feelings?

_Just why?_

You have to remember that I was supposed to be the dumb one.

_The naïve one_.

Hell, I didn't even know what a _fiancé_ was for crying out loud – how the heck was I supposed to understand what love meant, what it felt like? I didn't and I couldn't. And I can tell you a lot of the time, with us; it didn't feel like love, that's for sure! At least not what _I_ _thought_ love was; love was something shared between your parents, between brothers and sisters like Shou and Ryou, Fubuki and Asuka. It was somewhere between duty and responsibility, affection and warmth.

Love wasn't something I was familiar with. Sure, I've thrown the word around a few times, and sometimes, maybe I even meant it – albeit, not in the way I mean now. That was a different love, a friendly love.

The love I'm thinking about is untouchable and unattainable – kinda like he is, I suppose.

This – _this_ – is _true_ love.

_My love transcends everything I have ever known; space, time and even death._

It's corny, it's cheesy and it's _so_ clichéd. I hate saying it, but that's what it is, and I guess it's something I should have known all along. I mean, everyone has _someone_, be it a brother, a sister, or even a _cat_.

I had Manjyome.

_How could I not have known?_

There are so many different reasons that I could give, but if I was to tell the truth I honestly don't know _why_ I didn't know before what is so clear to me now.

_I love Manjyome._

Maybe it's because I always thought we'd always have each other; I stupidly believed that because this was the way it had always been, it'd be the way it stayed. I mean, he's left before, but he's always been the one to come back, only this time…

Only this time he couldn't come back. This time, it was a one way trip with no return journey. Because this time, he never left.

I did.

I _died_.

There, I've said it.

And so, I hope that you can appreciate that because of this unfortunate circumstance I have changed and I don't and won't apologise for it.

You see, I am not merely a character in a cartoon or something who can be described in three words or less such as "wonderfully talented duellist," or "ridiculously good-looking," although both of these are in fact true.

I warn you now that I am not 'out of character,' but simply 'older' and 'wiser'.

Got it?

_Good_.

I am a person/ghost (you know what I mean) and I have thoughts and feelings that develop and therefore, I may not be what you expected me to be. But please keep in mind that I have had much time in which to grow (again, you know what I mean) as this person and do in fact, have my own opinions and such.

But, of course, _that_ it another tangent altogether.

Back to _this_.

Let me first recap what I have already said; _I am dead_ and _I love Manjyome._

Shocking, isn't it? Some might even say that it was a stupid thing to do – both dying and falling in love. Well, I've got news for those people – _screw you_.

Do you think that I _wanted_ to die? Do you think that I was confronted by the Grim Reaper and he ordered me to choose between life and death and that I took the latter option only for him to laugh in my face and tell me that I was a fool because I love Manjyome? It was nothing like that at all – _I had no choice_. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I can lack the odd bout of common sense, but I am _not_ uberly-unintelligent, nor am I – despite what you have been told – the ultimate village idiot.

I didn't ask for it, but that's what I got and that is what I have to accept.

But, no matter what those people might think, who'd have thought that out of everyone, Juudai would be the first to go? Not me, that's for sure. I'd have at least thought that Professor Cronos would kick the can before me, but I wouldn't wish death on anybody.

_It's just so unfair._

And after everything I've done as well – it seems almost a waste to have gone through all that 'saving the world' business only to die before I got the chance to experience most of it.

I feel a bit cheated to be honest. As though I've been winning a game since the beginning and then on the last turn the rules change and I'm left with nothing. Or that I've just been playing the game for someone else all along and after the final victory I have been cast aside and forgotten.

But what I resent most is the fact that I no longer get to play.

I miss all that. Miss being the hero (as you can probably guess, I'm not all that happy about my 'early retirement' if you know what I mean). Miss the challenges, miss the duels and most of all, I miss the winning.

That's right guys, I finally admit it – I'm a glory hog and hypocrite. I always say that the most important thing is to have fun, but I really, _really_ love winning.

Losing I don't like so much.

In fact, I _hate_ losing.

Most people think that you can count the number of times I've lost on one hand.

_Losing him once is worse than losing everything else a million times over for the rest of forever…_

Okay, so perhaps you can count the _duels_ that I've lost easily, but not the _things_.

You name it, I've lost it; pens (which is why I never write things in class), watches (which is why I'm always late), rubber ducks (how can you even lose one of these? They're bright yellow and stay in the bath for goodness sakes)! What else? Money, pets, spatulas, goggles, underpants…in fact, probably the only thing I haven't lost yet is, well…is – _this is really, really embarrassing_ – the only thing I have never lost is _it_. If you don't know what 'it' is, I'm not going to tell you – you must be too young.

I'm rambling now; I don't even know why I mentioned it. Let's just say it was one of the only things that you want to lose and is actually worth losing but I never did and never will.

On the other hand, I've lost one of the only things you never want to lose – _all because I died._

You would think the actually dying would be something you remember, but it isn't. I suppose you must know what it's like when it's happening, but afterwards, you don't. It's kinda like dreaming – you sorta know when you are, and then, it's gone…consciousness pushes it away and subdues it.

I vaguely remember what happened before it, although for the most part, I choose not to. It's not my favourite memory even though Manjyome was there. He was there, but there was nothing he could have done to save me. But I don't mind. All I really care about is the fact that he was there. Maybe, I even died in his arms because I remember someone with a voice very much like his calling my name; _Juudai, Juudai_, but every time it sounded as though they were getting further and further away from me…

_Flashing lights – the roar of a thousand voices – and then, a silence…colours fade between bright white and darkest black – a face – a word – my name, and – pain, so much against the crash of waves…_

"_Juudai!"_

_Manjyome…Manjyome, is that you?_

I can hear the sound of fear.

"_Juudai."_

_Where are you Manjyome?_

Why are you so scared?

"_Juudai!"_

_Why can't I see you?_

I can feel your beating heart, but, but where's mine?

"_Juudai," softer now._

_I can barely hear you anymore._

Why do I feel hot and cold and nothing all at once.

"_Juudai," barely audible now._

_Don't leave me again, Manjyome – don't go!_

I'm holding my breath…

"_Juudai, please!" _

_Manjyome, I –_

It became a desperate struggle to stay awake, but there was a feeling of pain so violent that when it disappeared I was left numb and slipping into unconsciousness against the urgent and persistent cries of desperation clawing at my still heart and lungs. The only thing keeping me there was Manjyome's ever-quieting whispers, but when they died away, so did I.

"_Juudai…"_

_Manjyome?_

…

_And then, we were both lost to one another._

I know Manjyome blames himself for my death and it makes me feel as guilty as Hell for not being able to tell him that it wasn't his fault.

_I want you to know that I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault, Manjyome._

If I was to blame anything, it would be Fate. So much for the 'Great Destiny' that everyone foretold I would have. It sorta kinda really sucks because I was actually looking forward to all the new adventures and everything, but I guess none of that matters now.

There's not a lot of good that I can do seeing as I'm _dead_, you know.

Death is a very difficult thing to come to terms with whether you are the one who has been left behind, or whether you are the one who has died. You can't imagine it – there's really no other way to describe it. So why is it that I seem to have come to terms with it so easily? Simple; I'm not dead yet.

_Not properly dead that is._

I'm being confusing again, aren't I? Well it makes a nice change from being the one who's confused though, I can tell you that.

To answer you're question, I'll have to ask you another one; have you ever read 'The Princess Bride' by William Goldman? You should, it's a good book – good enough to keep me interested at least. Or, maybe it was because Manjyome read it to me that kept me interested. Even the recollection brings warmth to the cold for me.

I was in a very bad way back then.

"You know, seeing as you're such a big slacker and all, I would have thought that you'd be overjoyed at the prospect of spending a couple of weeks in bed," Manjyome said dryly. "Especially since you actually have a valid excuse this time. Unless, you're only faking it so that you can miss next week's exams," he needled unremorsefully.

I growled at him.

I know, not like me at all, but I was really sick, and Manjyome wasn't helping me to feel any better. Not at all. Especially since his Duel Monsters cards were spread out over one side of his bed in a teasing manner. The cards were so crisp and well kept that I licked my lips while just staring at them, having been deprived of my own for so long. Manjyome himself was sat cross-legged at the end, sorting through the cards from his latest pack all in preparation for his next duel.

I was unbearably jealous.

"I mean," he continued, despite my warning, although I suppose I couldn't have looked very menacing with my red nose, tired eyes and pale skin, surrounded by warm blankets and used tissues – gross, I know – I was there in the middle of it all. I _made_ it all. "You spend most of class asleep, so you'd think that you'd like to actually sleep in your bed for a change, rather than on the desk."

"Shut up!" I grumbled, throwing a new-ish ball of wet paper at him. It went about thirty centimetres and then fell dismally back onto my bed before rolling pathetically slowly over the covers and onto the floor beside it.

Manjyome only chuckled at me. It was odd to hear. I wasn't really used to the sound of laughter in the room unless it was mine.

"And people think I'm the grouch," he said as seriously as was expected – i.e. in his trademark grouchy way although I knew he only did it to mock me. How kind of him to kick me while I was down. And holding bucket loads of dripping snot to boot. I may have defended him before, but right then, I would have sworn that his essence was pure evil.

"Shut up," I shouted again in response, the flu clearly affecting the part of my brain that controlled the ability to speak – or at the very least – the area that allowed me to produce viable insults.

Like I said, I was in a really bad way. I was cold, I was sweating, my nose was stuffed up and I could barely breathe. My head pounded so much at the time I actually _thought_ I was _dying_.

"Can't you see I'm dying? At least show a little compassion!" I wailed miserably, slumping down further into the bed.

When I think about how I feel now, I was no where near miserable back then.

"You are being ridiculous," Manjyome informed me as he started to shuffle his deck.

I shook my head furiously, sending the blood rushing round and answered back like a petulant child throwing a strop. "No I'm not! I can't do anything except drink green tea and sleep. I'm _bored_, Manjyome and you're torturing me by not letting me have my cards!"

It was true. He had taken my entire deck and hidden it someplace where I would 'never find it'. I couldn't even get up and look for my cards because he had appointed himself my babysitter/nurse/guard and made sure that I stayed in the bed or else I would risk the flaming ends of his pronged trident. Okay, so he never actually appointed himself the first two and I made up the bit about him having a Satan-like pitchfork, but it amused me to imagine him in a clean white smock with pigtails and stockings while roasting marshmallows as well as checking my temperature and bouncing me on his knees…

_Mmm…a giant Manjyome marshmallow…yummy._

Err…yeah…as you can probably tell, I was pretty feverish.

…

Umm…anyway, _Bastard!Manjyome_ had taken my deck, and then he had the nerve to tell me that it was all for my own good, and if I got too excitable I'd only make myself worse. Sorta like what I _was_ doing at the time, but I couldn't understand why someone in as much pain and obvious agony as me couldn't have some sort of comfort, however small.

"I might as well be dead!" I concluded.

Manjyome snorted, but didn't say anything although I did see his jaw clench ever so slightly, as if he was about to say something, but stopped himself. I often wonder about what he was thinking at that exact moment; he probably wished I was, but I like to think that he was glad I wasn't dead.

Even if he had answered I probably wouldn't have heard him over the continuation of my melodramatic sobs. I wasn't being particularly reasonable or cooperative at all anyway, so it wouldn't have surprised me if he decided to kill me himself.

It was a good few minutes before he did anything besides absently splitting his deck a few times. When he finally _did_ move I half expected him to run over, jump onto my bed and slap me silly, but what he _actually_ did was walk calmly over to his chest of drawers and then begin rifling through them.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously.

"I'm trying to find a way to stop myself from committing suicide," he answered flatly.

"Huh?" sometimes, I just didn't get his sense if humour at all. It's because he's Emo. But at least he wasn't about to kill me, I suppose.

He sighed. "Juudai, your whining is driving me insane. If I don't find a way to shut you up I think I may have to murder us both just so I can finally have some peace."

Never mind my previous comment then. I guess he was actually more of a sadistic psycho with anti-social leanings than I had thought. If he ever left the Academy again I would suggest that he become a hermit.

"Oh."

Again, as I said – flu plus brain plus mouth equals no.

We were both silent for a while as Manjyome continued his search. Well, I say silent, but between my coughing and sniffing and Manjyome's low cursing it was, to put it simply, not silent. Besides, I had such a headache that it felt like there was a thunderstorm instead of a brain in my skull.

But I digress.

"A-ha!" he cried out in success when he finally found it.

I stayed silent (see above for the definition of 'silent' at this point in my life), lest my mouth should spout out something that I would later regret.

In his hands Manjyome held a book. The cover white with words written in long, cursive spirals of black, the edges were dog-eared and the spine was broken in a various places.

I could tell that he read it a lot, although I myself had never seen him do such a thing. I had never even seen the book before that moment.

Then, quite unexpectedly, he shoved ME (poor, sick _ME_!) over onto the edge of the bed and flopped down onto the mattress beside me, turned the first few pages and began to read.

That was it. He just sat down and began to read as though it was the most natural thing in the world for us to be doing.

I knew for a fact that it was the least natural thing for us.

For one thing, Manjyome was usually the quiet one, while my voice filled in the silences with endless chatter about nothing of any great importance or interest to either of us for the most part. We also argued. That we did a lot, more than I care to admit, really. We had even fought physically on a number of occasions, but never had we sat in such a companionable way.

It was so comfortable and at the same time, comforting.

And in my drowsy mind, clouded with thoughts of pirates and princesses and duels, I decided that it was the way that things were meant to be between us.

Easy.

Simple.

_Perfect_.

Okay, maybe 'perfect' is taking it a little bit too far. Okay, so it takes it _way_ too far. It's just that there was something about Manjyome when he read it to me, the way he smiled during the parts that he liked, that he made up different voices for all the characters when they spoke, the way the words sounded when he read them…

Yeah, I know, weird huh?

I don't even know why he did it – he probably felt sorry for me or something.

But as I sat there listening, I couldn't help but think that when he read there was something so calm, so gentle, so – so _frighteningly human_ about him. The Manjyome Jun that I had not known and had not seen, but that had somehow existed beneath that cold exterior for so long.

_What makes you so afraid that you don't ever want anyone to know him? To know you, Manjyome?_

I could hear the things that he wanted to say. Not the words of the book, but the words of his heart. The way he spoke told me everything I needed to know – he was free in that book, for him, it was an escape from the sheer tedium that was trapping him in his life. Of all the things that he hated. And he had chosen to run away with _me_.

I, Juudai, had been given the honour of seeing the genuine Manjyome.

_The Manjyome I love._

It was all these things, and the fact that each time I sniffled he would pass me tissues and when I shivered he paused, jumped off the bed and grabbed _his_ covers from _his_ bed and tucked me in wordlessly before continuing, that made me start to lean over ever so slightly…And then, a little more. Then some more, until finally, my head fell against his shoulder softly.

I smiled to myself when he didn't stop, ask me what the Hell I was doing and threaten to pummel me into the ground even though I was sick.

I smiled.

I smiled despite the fact that I felt like crap, because I was surprisingly content there, nestled in Manjyome's warmth. I could hear the steady drum of his heart, and without quite realising it, my breathing began to match the rise and fall of his chest.

_It was like we were one._

Sometime later I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was woken by my hunger. That's the thing with me, even when I'm sick I still want food. And now, although I'm dead, I still find myself getting hungry, although I don't technically need food anymore.

It's the same with sleep. I feel tired, which is insane, because how much more rested can I be? I'm _dead_! Apparently, it gets easier, you start to feel hungry and tired less, until you forget what they feel like completely. But as I said; _apparently_. I have yet to discover this for myself, because to be perfectly frank, I still get those pangs of hunger.

My stomach growled.

I felt Manjyome's laughter, rather than heard it. I was still leaning on him.

Well, I say leaning, but it was actually more like sprawled on top of him. I had somehow managed to pull him down so that he was somewhere in a tangled mess of blankets and paper and Juudai – being me – had an arm and a leg thrown over his body, and my head was tucked under his chin.

I rolled off him as quickly as I could, yanking most of the covers with me, my face flushed with embarrassment. Although there was really nothing to be embarrassed about at all – I was hardly naked or anything – it was probably just the fever that made me feel so hot and uncomfortable.

Manjyome only laughed some more, rolled on top of _me_ and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead before walking away to get me some plain rice and another cup of green tea while complaining about the pins and needles in his arm.

To this day I still think that the fever made me delirious and the whole thing was just one big hallucination.

But it's a nice memory to have – to pull up out of the darkness and dream about, if only for a short time to while away the endless eternity that I face…err…I guess I've kinda lost where I'm going with this, haven't I?

Oh yeah, I remember now; in the book, this old guy, Max or something, explains that there are different kinds of dead. Kinda like different kinds of umm – fat – yeah! Just like there are different kinds of fat – like Junko and Momoe say; you can be a little fat, kinda fat, really fat or fat-fat. I'm not very good at this, but you know how you can be chubby or obese or just slightly overweight and things like that? Well, I was like that, only instead of fat, you use the word dead.

I wasn't dead-dead – well, at least my soul wasn't. My body was dead-dead, but my spirit was only kinda dead.

It happens sometimes, quite a lot actually. You always watch horror films and see all these spirits unable to move on, but you think that it is only a few. In reality, it happens to most people – the _undead_. Not all that scary when you realise what they really are. They aren't actually vengeful ghosts that stay to haunt those that have wronged them, it's just that for a while, everyone is unable to move on, it just takes different souls different lengths of time to find their closure and pass over.

I was one of these; _lost_.

Waiting.

Although for what I really don't know.

I mean, I always thought that I had lived each day to the fullest that I could – that when my time did finally come – although I hadn't expected it so soon – I would have no regrets about anything. But I do, and if you will excuse my choice of words, _it kills me_.

I guess no matter what anyone does they will always have regrets, unanswered questions and unspoken secrets.

I am no different.

There's so much I should have done. So much I could have done. So much I would have done if only I'd known how few my days were. I shouldn't have slept so much. I could have eaten more. But most of all, I would have told him.

_Told him that I love him_.

I know I said that I didn't realise that I was in love with him until I died, but I guess that in some strange and obscure way I always knew that I loved him. After all, there's a big difference between loving someone and being in love with them. Take Asuka, I loved her as a friend, but I wasn't in love with her as a person.

I'm not explaining this very well, I know, but give me a break. I'm dead for crying out loud!

All I can say is that if you're lucky, one day you'll understand. You'll know the difference; it isn't a case of how or why, you just will. There will be no if, buts or maybes about it. You'll just know. It's both the most simple thing in the world, and the most difficult.

And it _hurts_.

It just hurts so damned much, but no matter what you do, you just can't stop the hurt. It feels like someone has torn you open and placed a flame in your heart that sets alight your entire body and no matter how many tears you cry, you know that you'll never cry enough to stop the Hellish pain.

You'll never be able to. Only they can.

The one that you're in love with.

Now, I'm not the sort of person that goes around spouting profanities like well, a person who swears a lot, I guess, but there's only one phrase I know that even comes close to adequately describing this pain; _it fucking kills_. And even if you're already dead, you still feel it – you're still vulnerable to it and it tears you apart and there's nothing you can do. There is no escape. The pain goes beyond just the physical – it's a spiritual slaughter of your soul.

I am so fragile. I am a like glass heart that has been dropped and shattered in such a way that it is impossible to mend.

_I can never be whole. Not without you._

I go and see him sometimes if only to try and spare myself the agony of being in love with him and yet not being able to love him like I want to.

_Manjyome…_

But, like I said, it hurts.

It hurts so much to see him, to know that he can't see me and I want to leave, to not see him, but that hurts even more. I still need Manjyome. _Even now_. He is so unpredictable, but to me, he is the most constant thing that I have in my, umm _after_life.

_I want to tell you that I love you, Manjyome._

I want to reach out to him, to close the gap, but I can't. It's as though there's a wall of glass around him – I can only get so close, but no further…I want to reach through it, reach through to him, but I – I _can't_.

_I can see you, Manjyome. And I watch you. Every day. Every night._

He would never have let me stare at him like I do when I was still alive. In such an obvious manner. It would have unnerved him to know that someone looked at him in such a way. It would have made him build up those walls and strengthen his defences all the more.

_I see you and it hurts me. You don't know how much you hurt me, Manjyome, just by living._

I am so close and yet I can never be close enough. I'll never be close enough to him again.

_Tell me, I'm begging you, tell me, what can I do? You are everywhere – you are both the darkness that embraces me and the light that guides me. I touch the shadows and imagine you – why couldn't you just let me die alone?_

Alone.

Just like you, Manjyome.

_You're so alone. You've always been so alone and you pretend that you don't care, but I know that it bothers you. I've seen your nightmares and heard the screams. I've held you in my arms when you didn't know I was there and I've cried for you because I know you refuse to show your feelings…you're so delicate when you're dreaming…I'm always afraid that the next violent vision you experience will be the one to break you, to crush into a dust so fine that I'll never be able to find you, to hold you again. _

It hurts so much.

_Manjyome, I don't want you to be alone, but I don't want you to be with anyone but me. I just don't want to lose you again._

Manjyome…I don't want you to die, but I want – I want _you_. I want you but I can't have you! Why does it have to be this way? Why is it so cruel, Manjyome?

_What have you done to me, Manjyome? I am the one that has died, but it is you that haunts me. A living ghost._

How ironic.

_I can see you, but I know that you can't see me, Manjyome._

There's really nothing to see. _I'm_ nothing. Invisible in his world.

In other worlds, I'm seen as light energy – an indiscernible spectre – and in my own realm, my spirit takes on the form of my body.

My body that's buried over on Duel Academy Island.

I know because that was the next place I remembered after – after dying.

Nowhere particularly special, people might think, but it is special to _me_.

After all, it was to all intents and purposes, the very place where my life as a credible duellist began.

_And the beginning of my far too short time with Manjyome._

My body lies on the high cliff overlooking the ocean in a place that sees both the sunrise and the sunset. The most beautiful part of the entire island.

The place that I went to think and to just _be_.

It was the place where everything of direct importance occurred be it duels or simply just talking to Manjyome and the guys about the future.

A future that I now have no place in.

But it was one of my favourite places on the island, along with my bed (heck, _any_ bed) and the kitchens.

_It was perfect._

I wonder how they managed that. What with the missing students and the abandoned dorm and everything, surely they didn't need anymore ghosts or skeletons lying around. How did they ever get whoever's in charge to say "yeah, sure, go ahead and bury some dead guy on the island. There's only a school full of impressionable kids a few meters away, but yeah, why not?"

I wonder if they ever asked Seto Kaiba.

I thought I'd been asleep. That's what it was like. I remember flashes of it.

I knew instantly that I was back on Duel Academy Island, although I couldn't work out how or why. I had graduated some months ago after all; it just made so little sense to me.

It was sunny, but I didn't feel the warmth. Leaves on the trees rustled, but I didn't shiver. I was lying in the shadow of something that hadn't been on the cliff when I had left.

I was looking at it and without even walking – I was just there – in front of this great, stone monolith.

It was marking something – a grave.

I stared at it as though I half expected it to speak to me, but when I realised that giant stone obelisks didn't just talk I tried to decipher the characters that had been chiselled onto the smooth surface.

_J-U-_

I tried to trace my fingers over the engraved letters as I read, but I couldn't – I – I couldn't do it!

_-U-D-_

The letters – they were so familiar, I recognised the pattern, a name; they must be a name. The name of the person that the grave belonged to.

_-A-I_

And then there was a space.

I glanced at the next character.

_Y_

_Juudai Y_

"_Juudai?" _

And that's when I remembered that 'Juudai' was in fact my own name, meaning that the grave belonged to a person with the same name as me.

"_Oh, well, that's a strange coincidence!" _I laughed lightly.

And then I stopped.

_I was the only "Juudai" at the Academy. _

I scanned through some of the things written on the stone and felt a sweeping chill wrap itself around the place that was once my throat – a cold that I just couldn't get free of.

_I did all of these things._

But it couldn't be true – was it just some kind of sick, twisted joke?

No.

_This is my grave._

And that's when I realised that I was dead.

My first thought was what the Hell am I gonna do? And then I realised that there was nothing I could do because I was _dead_.

_Dead and buried_.

The more I thought about it, the more it began to sink until finally, it struck me that because I was dead, I was no longer alive.

_I'm dead…_

Talk about your major bummers.

_I wonder what the guys would think about this._

_The guys!_

I thought about Shou and of Asuka and Misawa.

And _Manjyome_.

And I realised that I had to see them.

But I didn't have a clue as to how.

I mean, I was – _am_ – a ghost. I didn't know what was expected of me. When you read the legends you get told that you stand in a queue and wait for this big guy called Yama to judge you or something. If you were good, you drink this water that erases your memories and then you get reborn. If not, well, you get punished.

_Am I being punished?_

I had always thought that I'd been good. I had a lot of friends, didn't get into (many) fights and ate all my vegetables. In fact, I ate all my food which must have been a good thing. But I guess sleeping in class probably counted against me, as did my tardiness, oh, and handing in assignments late – but surely such trivial things didn't matter?

But hey, if they did…well, I was pretty much screwed.

I needed to think, to be logical.

"_Nothing about this could possibly be logical,"_ I reasoned with myself.

There wasn't a ghost train or ghost ship that could take to where they ('they' being my friends) were. For one thing, I wasn't even sure _where_ they were anyway.

I thought back to the grave with my name. How I had wanted to see it and I was there. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I would be taken to whoever or whatever I was thinking about. It was worth a shot, and I really didn't have anything else to do.

So I thought about them.

I thought about Shou and the way he would chew the end of his pencil during exams, the fitful night of sleep that he would have before big duels and so much more. It was almost like I was afraid that I would forget him if I didn't remember every little detail, every moment we had spent together.

I think I smiled when I thought about the time that he duelled so that I could have a ticket to see Yugi Moto's deck.

And the next thing I knew I was watching a duel.

A duel between Yugi Moto and some other guy with dirty blond hair and a weird accent that I couldn't place.

If I still had a body I would have sweat-dropped.

_Okay, this wasn't supposed to happen!_

I had managed to move myself, somehow, but I hadn't gotten to the right place with the right person. But on the bright side, I did get to see Yugi Moto's deck being used by the one and only King of Game himself. The last time really didn't count, and I was thinking that one day I might get the chance to duel against –

And my thoughts changed. I couldn't duel against Yugi Moto. I was dead and the situation I was in was ridiculous.

I heard a familiar cooing.

_Kuriboh?_

Sure enough, there he was, blinking at me with his big blinking eyes that were blinking at me.

Only it wasn't my Kuriboh – mine had wings – it must have been Yugi's (although, technically, mine had been Yugi's originally. Not important, per se, but true nonetheless).

_You can see me?_

I'm sure that surprise was evident in my voice as it seemed to smile at me. For some reason, I reached out, and was shocked to find that I could feel something soft and furry and warm – not only could he see and hear me, he could touch me as well.

I gaped at him for a while, until he was summoned to the field and I could no longer feel him in the palm of my hand. It winked at me, and Yugi turned his head as if trying to see why. I hoped that he could see me, but he couldn't and my metaphorical heart sank.

My theory had been that if I could see and hear Duel Spirits, other people who could see and hear them must be able to see me as well.

Too bad, so sad – because my theory was disproved straight away.

I felt so alone, so full of fear as to what would become of me. I didn't know. I hadn't the slightest idea. Such a thing had never bothered me before, but at that moment it did.

In the past I would have seen it as an adventure, but now it was a matter of life and death. At least, death and _death_.

Seeing Shou and the others only served to further emphasis that fact.

I guess when you think about it, everything is a matter of dying and death. I mean, you spend all your time trying to live, but in reality, it's just a case of doing things before you die. People are actually just trying to avoid death, to run away from it, but eventually, it takes everyone. And then, it's a case of actually dying properly. To take the next step. It all seems so unnatural when I say it like this – why would anyone try to get closer to death?

You should know that there is no novelty in death. Despite what people tell you, it's not worth celebrating. It's not fun, and it's not cool. You never think, "oh wow, people can't see me, now I can spy on that hot girl/guy/hermaphrodite that I like so much and they won't know anything about it! Awesome!"

Okay, some people probably have not only had that very thought, but put it into practice as well.

I guess when you're alive, you can laugh and joke about stuff like this because it is all so hard to understand and grasp. But when it _has_ actually happened, and you are faced with the opportunity to see things that you never had, you want to take them, but there is something that stopped me from doing the same as those others; _guilt_.

I'm still as moralistic as ever, ne?

Unlike the trouble I had in locating the other guys, as soon as Manjyome's name and image flickered through my 'brain' (or whatever) I was transported to him with no problems.

Well, aside from the fact that he happened to be butt naked on the bathroom floor.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like I didn't appreciate the chance to ogle a nude Adonis or anything…I mean, it was a good few minutes before my shocked brain could function enough to tear itself (reluctantly) away from the delicious sight, but by then I already had him memorised forever; the sharp jaw, smooth cheekbones and lean body covered in smooth, milky skin…

_Manjyome…_

'Course, I already knew what Manjyome looked like naked – we had at one point shared a room together after all. Strangely, he was never really uncomfortable with stripping in front of me considering how he was with his emotions, but back then I didn't quite understand how I felt about Manjyome. I must have convinced myself that I was merely admiring his physique out of respect for him as a rival, not because of any other kinds of admiration I might have secretly harboured because well…

This makes me sound so perverted.

The thing is, back then, he had always known I was there, known that I could see him and was okay with that, which is why I never shied away from him. We were both guys, young and innocent. There were no malicious intentions hidden in those actions – it was merely what people our age did. We were just normal kids. And besides, what roommates haven't seen each other in the buff before?

_Exactly_.

But this time, it was different. He didn't know I was there, he didn't know that I could see him, and perhaps most importantly, he didn't know I _wanted_ to see him.

It didn't matter that he was in the shower, it made me feel dirty.

Even though I was dead, I still couldn't betray his trust – albeit, a rather grudgingly given trust that soon developed into a close friendship that had taken years to strengthen.

Back then, a few years seemed like such a long period of time, but in contrast to the age of our planet, our galaxy, our universe, it was barely anything at all.

Time moves so differently in my dimension. (I've taken to calling death as moving into a different dimension because, well, I don't know, I just feel more comfortable with the idea I guess. It must be something to do with all that Shadow Realm business). Sometimes I can see anything and everything – it's as though the whole world is at a standstill except for me, and at other times I might miss entire days, sometimes even weeks!

The worst time shift I ever experienced was that almost two years had passed in a mere moment for me.

It's a difficult concept to grasp. Okay, more like, impossible to understand. The best explanation that I can give is that in my dimension, the flow of time (although it still flows forward) does not flow at a regular rate. Instead, it seems almost warped which leads to an irregular passage of time.

Its quantum or astrophysics or something that I was once learnt in class – that's right, I _did_ learn things in lessons. Well, the ones that I was awake for at least. Anyway, my dimension, and the one that I _had_ been in run parallel together which is why I don't simply 'live out my days' as it were at a slower or faster rate while still seeing everything in the other world…its – its just all very complicated and weird and scientists all have crazy theories about it, but that's all beside the point.

The important thing was what I had missed.

I wasn't present at my funeral, so I don't know how anyone reacted. Perhaps people were silent. Perhaps they laughed. Maybe some even cried. I think that Shou probably did, but only because I caught him crying once or twice while reminiscing about me on my visits to him. I always thought that Asuka would cry along with him.

In fact, I've seen her crying over me as well.

It's so strange to think that your friends are crying because of you, because of something you couldn't avoid and can never change.

Do you know how much it hurts to watch someone you care about crying for you, and not being able to do anything about it?

I do.

But do you know how much it hurts to watch the person you care about _most_ crying for you, and not being able to do anything about it?

I don't. And I guess in a way, that's why it hurts so much more.

I genuinely _cared_ for Manjyome, but I guess he didn't feel the same way about me. He couldn't have because he hurt me in a way that I could have never hurt him; he knows I've cried for him.

It was after the duel with me that had been organised by his brothers. After they had disowned him. After I had thought that _he_ might cry (for possibly the first time ever) but didn't.

It must have been so hard for him and I could only stand by and watch as he cracked under all that pressure.

"I have to win. I have to win. It is my duty, my task, my _life_. I will win, and I'll be the greatest duellist of all time!"

"Manjyome…" I could only whisper from where I hid, with my body flat against the walled entrance to the toilets as he talked to himself.

His words were strong, but I could see the fear in the way that his arched body trembled and heard it in the shake of his voice. But he wasn't afraid of me, even I knew that. No, he was afraid of something much worse; disappointing his brothers.

"I can't fail. I can't fail. I can't _ever_ fail…"

I wanted no more than to show myself and reach out and hold him and tell him not to be so stupid and that everything would work out but I didn't. I couldn't. And if I had, how stupid would I have sounded considering what happened next? I would have been nothing more than a liar.

_Manjyome…_

The duel was as difficult for me as it was for him. There were times when I actually thought that I would lose. There were times when I looked into those dark eyes, so focused and hard, closed off to everything except his one goal: he _had_ to win and thought that he wouldn't hesitate to destroy me.

But then, I remembered how his eyes had been, only minutes before the duel started.

His head jerked up after he had splashed his face with some cold water from the basin and I caught a fleeting glimpse of those same onyx eyes – I saw his fear. It may have only been for a moment, but that same look haunted me throughout the duel until the end. Even at the very last second I contemplated surrendering if only to erase the image from my memories.

But I didn't stop. I didn't. I couldn't. It wouldn't have been fair to either Manjyome or myself. I couldn't lose purposefully – Manjyome deserved my best and I deserved the same. Only, I knew that that was not what he was giving me. I sensed that he was holding something back and until now I still wonder why. That wasn't the way duels were won – Asuka once said that the strength of a duellist comes from the reasons _why_ they duelled. So you see, I couldn't just let him win when I knew that he was duelling for all the wrong reasons and that he wasn't duelling his best.

I'm rambling again, I know, but I see this _incident_ I suppose you could call it, as a defining point in our relationship – or rather, non-relationship as it was at the time. The thing is, up until then it was always Manjyome who had been a part of my life; it was him, not I, that challenged the other first. Then again. And then again. I was the passive party and I think that was the way he wanted it, liked it, perhaps even needed it to be. Manjyome was the one with all the control despite his loses, and I went along for the ride.

But _this_ duel, and my subsequent victory led me to become a permanent part of his life and I was directly involved and inextricably bound to him.

"You're not worthy to be a member of this family anymore," his brother spat out at him.

"In fact," the other added, "Manjyome _Jun_ you are no more! It's over – we don't want you anymore."

I waited with my eyes on Manjyome to see how he would react. I thought that he would argue back at them, tell them that it was they who were worthless, but he didn't do anything. He just stood there at the end of the duellist's entrance into the main arena. It was as though he fought they were right.

I hated his brothers' right then. I never refer to them by their real names because I never took the time to learn them. And even if I had known them, I didn't respect them enough to call them anything but 'shit-head' and 'shit-face.' See – the swearing shows you know much I hated them.

"You are nothing to us, and you will certainly never amount to anything. We only kept you around because we thought that you might be useful. Turns out we were wrong. You're just a useless, pathetic –"

But before he finished he was lying face down on the floor, nursing a rapidly swelling eye.

My stare never left Manjyome, but I hadn't seen him move, and it was only when he turned his own eyes upon me that I realised that it had been _me_ who had landed the forceful blow on his eldest brother!

"What the _fuck_?" he demanded, lifting himself up onto his hands and knees.

As you can imagine, my first thought was that I was pretty much screwed, but then my anger superseded any worries I might have had for my own safety so I kicked him, just below the ribcage where the row of bones did _not_ hide any of the vital organs.

He groaned and fell again with a pained look about his face.

"How dare you?" I screamed. "How dare you treat Manjyome like that?" I kicked him again, rolling him onto his back with a dull 'thud.'

"Why you little shit!" the other brother came at me from behind and tried to grab me, but I elbowed him in the throat. The jab did it's job, and for a few moments he was left clutching his neck, unable to breath while I tripped him using his stricken brother's body.

My breathing grew slightly heavier, and there was a small cut above my right eye, but I was still too angry to notice or even care about either.

"He's better than you'll ever be," I ground out and then I felt another pair of hands at my shoulders.

"_Stop_."

I was ready to turn and fight when I remembered that Manjyome only had two brothers and they had already been floored.

"Manjyome?" I asked, bewildered.

"Just stop, Juudai." His voice was passive, defeated. "It's not worth it. _I'm_ not worth it."

_How can you say such things about yourself? Have your brothers' brainwashed you so much that you can't even see the truth? Don't you know how wrong they are – a person's worth is not defined by money alone!_

My fist collided with his face, but he didn't even flinch, just reached up and held my hand in his and watched me with those sad, black eyes and before I knew it, there were tears. Only they were rolling down my cheeks, not his – one pale, the other red.

"Yes, you are," I choked out, my hand still against his face and still in his. "Don't you ever say that you're worthless!" I was suddenly screaming at him. "It's like you think you're actually beneath them!"

If I could have that moment again, I would have told him that he wasn't worthless because he meant everything to me and that I wanted nothing more than to be able to love and protect him, but because I can't, I will have to make do with what I did say.

"How can you let them talk to you like this and not do anything?" I sobbed.

_Manjyome…why do you act this way? Why aren't you angry or upset? Why am I angry and upset for you, Manjyome? Why can't things ever be easy between us?_

His hand slowly pulled my fist away from his face, which I noted with much surprise, softened. The corner of his lips curved up into a gentle smile.

"Because _I'm_ not worth it," he answered sadly; his dark eyes seemed subdued as he began to walk away from me.

_But you are._

His next words were barely a whisper from where I was. "But then, neither are they."

That was the last I saw of Manjyome until he returned from North Academy which was the real turning point for us. After the 'School Duel' I thought that everything would work out and that we would never be separated again.

Yeah, so I was wrong, what's new?

Now let me ask you; do you know how much it hurts to watch someone crying for the person you care about most, and not being able to do the same?

I know how this feels too.

I know how it all feels because it's happened to me. I see it and I feel it and I hate it.

Sometimes, I even try and hate Manjyome for making me feel this way.

But then I see him and I watch him and I ache for him.

_I need you, Manjyome._

My favourite time to visit him is when he sleeps because then I don't have to share him with anyone else and there's nothing to distract me from him.

And I know it's really _him_.

Not this 'Manjyome' that he has since affected. The real Manjyome Jun that I first encountered so many years ago in our dorm room when my insides were tying themselves in knots. The soft gentle Manjyome that is free from everything.

Everything except me.

I just stand and stare at him, watching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to him breath. I imagine synchronising with him, like that time so long ago.

It was on one such occasion that I somehow forced myself beyond that glass box that meant he kept eluding me. I couldn't take it any longer. I had to be even closer to him. I wanted to touch him. I reached out my hand towards his forehead, expecting my fingers to pass straight through…but, but then I felt it. I felt the soft locks of hair tickling me and the smooth skin beneath my finger tips. He must have felt it too, because he frowned in the most adorable way and attempted to brush me away. His fingers touched mine and I held his hand for just a second before they slipped away as though they had never been there. When I went to hold him again, I found I couldn't.

I thought that perhaps I had imagined it.

It was a moment of great sadness for me and I realised that that was what I had done wrong with my life. I had always had everything that I had wanted, but I had failed to make him mine and all that I had lived for would be the very thing that killed me.

And now, now it is too late. I couldn't even hope anymore. I can't. I suppose I must suffer from a madness of the heart, the way I tried again every night I could to make contact with him again, if only for a second, all the heartache that came afterwards would be worth it.

_If only I could be with you again…_

But every night fell into a routine of apprehension and disappointment until one night when I had been watching him for what must have been hours. I was hypnotised by him. I didn't even realise that I was holding his wrist in my hand until I felt the steady beat of his pulse underneath my palm. But as soon as I noticed, he became untouchable to me again.

I wanted to cry, but how can a ghost cry? I have no physical body, and therefore, no way in which to manifest tears. And yet, I had somehow managed to touch Manjyome not _once_, but _twice_. How could this be possible?

I think it all goes back to that parallel dimension stuff. Although our worlds exist simultaneously and, for the most part at least, separately, there are certain points where they are closer – almost touching and something can travel from one world to the other. In this case, I could move through to the other dimension. But, as I later discovered, there moments were incredibly rare and could only occur if I was in perfect harmony with something, or someone, from the other dimension: _Manjyome_.

So, I would wait beside him every night, hoping that the universe saw fit for me to be with him. I focused everything on him, but every night I would feel the bitter sting of defeat. And then, the next day would be an agonising wait to see if finally, finally, I could be with him again.

It was insane, I know. I was insane. Nothing I did made any sense, it was crazy. But all I knew was that in that place which had once been my heart was this irrepressible longing for Manjyome. When I wasn't with him I was overcome by this pain – such a terrible aching twist of grief and anguish…

It was just so frustrating that I would lose myself in my anger and just scream his name as though it would make it easier, maybe even make it all go away. Make everything alright again. But it didn't. It just hurt more and every part of my essence ached with raw fury and misery.

The only time that the pain ever dulled was at night, but it only ever stopped once.

I had managed to breach the divide that separated us, barely daring to believe it, lest he should slip away from me again.

_Manjyome, I'm here._

I climbed into his bed beside him and lay on top of thin sheets that covered him. Manjyome's body rolled over to me slightly as my weight caused the bed to dip a little. He had grown in the time that we had been apart, whereas I had not, but I noticed that because of this, we fit together perfectly. He slung an arm over me and I crawled closer into his warmth. His chest met mine and I could feel the thump of his heart speeding up.

Did he know that I was there?

I felt his hand glide along my arm to my shoulder, his fingers touched my jaw and his thumb slid over my lips and cheek. In that moment I suspected that I had finally found Heaven.

"Manjyome?" I whispered, wondering if could hear me.

I didn't know of he could, or if he did, but I felt his hand held me tighter and a smile touched his lips before they parted.

"Juudai."

_Oh, Manjyome._

I didn't know how long I had there. I thought back to all the things I wanted to say to him, all the things I needed to say, but none of them came out.

Despite all the time I had spent longing for him, I felt no jolt of lust that urged to kiss him all over, to touch and devour him. It was enough to just be there with him, entwined as we were.

I felt a sated feeling desire and I drank in this moment so that it could be kept forever in my memories of him. It was exactly as it should have been.

Simple.

Easy.

Maybe even perfect.

If only I could be sure that he knew I was there and how happy he made me.

I pressed my mouth against his as though his breath would keep me alive and could only whisper his name. _"Manjyome,"_ just whispered it, over and over and over. "_Manjyome, Manjyome, Manjyome, Manjyome…"_

Against me, I felt his own lips move and felt the gentle sigh as he called out my name.

"Juudai."

And, as I repeated his name again, I realised that like the two of us, they just seemed to fit.

_We belong together_, I thought.

"_Manjyome."_

Despite all the things I could have said, that was all I did say, and I realised it was because it was all I had to say. Everything that I needed to say I was saying – you could hear it in the desperate, hopelessly helpless way that I continued to chant his name until his eyelids fluttered open and I felt heart-stopping panic rising within me. Our eyes met and I held his gaze before his eyes closed again.

For a few seconds, I couldn't feel his heart, and then, thankfully, I heard the echo of the pump.

I don't know why I was so thankful. If he had died then, I would have been able to be with him again, and then we would have eternity together. Only, I didn't want him to die. I wanted more for Manjyome.

Yeah, I know, but I already said that I'm insane. Must be what being dead and in love does to you; drive you crazy.

Suddenly, Manjyome jolted awake, and his eyes were blinking rapidly, the black orbs wide with realisation as they searched the room.

"Juudai?" he called out.

He had seen me.

_I'm right here._

I responded, but when he didn't react, I knew that he could no longer see me, and I could no longer touch him.

"Juudai?" he tried again, more desperately.

I saw a look of fear in his eyes as he began a frantic hunt for the ghost in his bed, but I knew he wouldn't find me.

"Juudai!" his voice was hoarse and sore, but he continued to look and shout.

There was such a feeling urgency and despair in his voice and I felt the shards of the glass box digging into me before closing around me in a menacing glass coffin.

I was aching inside, feeling the bitter pang of guilt because the pained expression on his face was my fault. I wanted to stay, but I just couldn't. I couldn't deal with what I had done. I didn't return for many, many nights and when I did he called out my name in his sleep and thrashed about on the sofa, reaching out as though he hoped he could find me and rescue me.

Let me rescue him.

No matter how hard or how many times I tried, I just couldn't shatter the glass box and get through to him again. I pounded against those glass walls, screaming out his name thinking that maybe if I said it enough a doorway would appear and the key would turn in the lock and I would finally find myself inside the invisible shield but every attempt threw me back and I was left bruised and dispirited.

He wanted me and I wanted him, but we were separated by life and death.

Manjyome grew ever darker, his eyes were lifeless and he seemed hollow – almost as though he had lost his soul and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it and it drove me mad with the sheer uselessness of myself in the whole situation.

I tried to wean myself off him, shortened my visits and then cut them out, replacing Manjyome with Shou and the others but it was no use. Despite everything, all I could was fill my mind with him.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but him.

The very last time I saw Manjyome, I realised how futile everything I had done was.

Manjyome was standing as still as stone in our old room, staring out of the window. This in itself was strange as I had never once seen him return to the Academy, nor revisit anything that we had ever done together. Sometimes, I suspected that he wanted nothing more than to forget about me.

_Don't do this to, Manjyome. Don't hurt me anymore than you already have._

There were two knocks on the door and it opened slowly.

"I thought I might find you in here."

Manjyome didn't even move but a feeling of horror and dread overcame me.

_Not you. Anyone but you._

I knew that he knew who it was even without looking.

"When I heard that you were back on the island I ditched my class and came straight here to see you, Manjyome."

_That's nothing. I cross time and space every night just to see Manjyome. My Manjyome._

"You shouldn't have done that," he said, his eyes never once leaving the glass. "You're still only in training."

Asuka laughed. "Oh, I'll be a full-fledged Academy Professor soon enough, I'm sure of it." She bit her lip and took a step forward.

_No._

"I've been worried about you Manjyome."

_No! _I raged.

Three more steps. "I've missed you." Another step.

_NO – stay away from him! Stay away from Manjyome!_

There was a moment of silence as she waited for Manjyome to respond. He didn't.

_Please._

"Manjyome," she sighed and took another step, so that she was standing directly behind him. "Manjyome, you can't keep blaming yourself."

_Don't._

Asuka leant her head against the back of his shoulder blade and placed her hands either side of his neck. "It wasn't your fault," she looked up at him, gripping him harder when he tried to pull away. "There was nothing you could have done," she spoke gently, soothingly. "You have to accept that and move on."

_Don't leave me behind._

It was then that Manjyome finally turned to look at her. "Do I?" he asked blankly. Her hands were still holding him.

_Don't forget about me, Manjyome!_

I felt like I wasn't there. In fact, to them, I wasn't, but I was and I knew what Asuka wanted to do. I knew, because it was exactly the same thing that I wanted as well.

"I missed you, Manjyome," she repeated absently and stood on the toes of her boots to reach up to his mouth.

_But those are my words…Manjyome is mine, damnit!_

I made my move, not even knowing whether or not it would work. I took a step forward so that I was standing directly with Asuka. I was sharing her body, I was touching Manjyome and for a brief moment, I was Asuka, before the actual Asuka realised. I could feel it in her thoughts – she knew I was there and I sensed her questioning voice although she never stopped.

_Please don't take him away from me…he's all I have. Please, Asuka. You had your chance with him. I – I don't want to hurt anymore. Don't let him hurt me like this. Just, just please don't._

Our lips met in a firm kiss. I felt Manjyome tense but I didn't pull back, although Asuka did and I realised that we had separated but I was still kissing Manjyome. I began to fall into him, I was under his skin, in his body, in his mind and I heard the whispered "_Juudai_."

I felt myself being wrapped in eternity and I felt an ecstasy that I had never experienced before, but it was over too soon.

He was disappearing before me!

_Don't leave me again, Manjyome. Please – I don't want to be alone – I don't want – I don't want – I don't want this…_

My whole spirit seemed to weaken and as the darkness began to wash over me I felt something leaving me, but I wasn't there to see the unclaimed tear on Manjyome's face that hadn't come from his eyes.

That must have been the very moment that I died properly. That is also the very moment that loops through my mind over and over, telling me what I should have known all along.

Manjyome and I were an impossibility.

I couldn't be there when he needed me, couldn't do what he needed me to do. I wasn't what he wanted anyway.

He had loved Asuka. Perhaps he still did, which is why he didn't pull away first. Not only that, but Asuka loved him. I could feel it in her heart when I joined with her. It was only a brief time, but it was there.

_But I love Manjyome…Asuka can't. She just can't._

I felt something very much like love in Manjyome, but there was also this awful pain as well. But - I'm not sure – he was so _confused_. I don't think he really knows how he feels himself anymore. He was never really 'in tune' with his emotions, after all, because he needed to be the best.

How ironic is it that it was me – the one person who wanted nothing more than his happiness was the very thing standing in his way? But now that I'm gone, he can have Asuka. He can be the best. He has everything that he could ever want and need.

I was nothing more than an obstacle.

I feel as though I am in a void, unhampered by space or time. All there is around me is shadow. It reminds of him and all I do is continue to call out is name; _Manjyome, Manjyome_ and search for that tiny star of light in the darkness of my existence.

I have nothing now but the dreams of a ghost. The touch of a fantasy phantom.

I can only imagine him – imagine touching him, kissing him.

But I am merely kissing oblivion.

Alone, Manjyome.

_Alone_.

_Will I wait for the day you find me again?_

_Just kissing oblivion until The End._


End file.
